The Great Escape
by lupuscarmen13
Summary: WARNING: SPOILERS When Johnny dies, Dally's world is destroyed. This is his (and Johnny's) death scenes through his eyes.


The Great Escape

POV: Dally

Dally jumped into Buck Meril's T-bird and roared down the street. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain in his arm. Only one thought fueled him mind: Johnny.

As an afterthought, he had grabbed Ponyboy, and as he raced down tenth street, this proved to be a blessing.

Lights flashed behind them and a siren screeched, making Dally's ears ring.

"Look sick." said Dally, staring straight ahead. His knuckles were white as he clutched the steering wheel. "I'll say I'm taking you to the hospital, which is truth enough."

He glanced back to see Ponyboy lean his head against the dirty window, his face unnaturally pale. In any other situation, Dally would be worried about him. But not now.

The sirens and lights grew closer, and, jerking the steering wheel, Dally angrily pulled over. If Johnny died before they reached him...No! Johnny _was not going to die. _If Johnny died, Dally would follow him.

"All right, buddy, where's the fire?" said a disapproving officer.

"The kid-" Dally jerked his thumb at Pony, his mind working furiously, "he fell over on his motorcycle and I'm takin' him to the hospital."

The fuzz changed his tone, looking concerned.

"Is he real bad? Do you need an escort?"

Dally snapped, "How would I know if he's bad or not? I ain't no doc." Dally paused for a moment, regaining his composure. "Yeah, we could use an escort."

The policeman left and went to his car. Dally hissed, "Sucker!"

He waited anxiously as the policeman (honestly, why couldn't he hurry his stupid, doughnut eating self up?) turned on the siren, and pulled in front of Dally. Then, thankfully, it was time to keep moving.

As they raced towards Johnny, Dally began to babble to Ponyboy, in an attempt to keep his cool.

"-I was crazy, you know that kid? Crazy for wantin' Johnny to stay outta trouble, for not wantin' him to get hard. If he'd been like me he'd never have been in this mess. If he'd got smart like me he'd never have run into that church." Dally took a shaky breath, focusing on the road in front of him. "That's what you get for helpin' people. Editorials in the paper and a whole lotta trouble..." Dally trailed off, his heart aching. Suddenly, he said, "You'd better wise up, Pony...you get tough like me and you don't get hurt. You look out for yourself and nothin' can touch you..." Dally kept talking, not hearing or thinking about a lot of it, the words just spilling out of his mouth, pouring from that crack in his armor like a river. That crack that Johnny had made. He could _feel _that crack getting larger, breaking open as he sped towards Johnny, little Johnny laying in a hospital bed...

Just another reason why Dally should've stayed strong. Friendship and love weren't worth the pain. He could live with loneliness, even though it hurt. He had dealt without that wonderful drug of friendship before, but it wasn't that that kept him alive. It was strength and hardness that had, and this love was killing him.

He had allowed himself to love one person in his life, and that person was slipping away.

They arrived at the hospital, where the copper left them. Dally flew out of the car like a bat from hell, and pretended to to help Ponyboy out of the car. The cop left, and Dally immediately let go of Pony's arm. He began running towards the door, sensing that Ponyboy had nearly fallen over. "Come on! Hurry!"

He slammed through the doors and raced through the lobby. He heard the surprised and angry shouts of the people waiting there. He had only Johnny on his mind, and the desperation to reach him.

He heard Pony panting beside him as they skidded to a stop in front of Johnny's room.

A doctor was waiting there, a strange expression on his face. Dally suddenly realized it was pity.

Fear flooded into Dally as the doctor began speaking.

"Sorry boys, but he's dying."

An icy hand gripped Dally's heart as the doctor's words bounced uselessly inside his head.

No. No. Not dying...Johnny couldn't die.

His hands began to shake, and he couldn't seem to look away from the doctor's mocha-brown eyes.

Dally, quick as a flash, flicked out Two-Bit's switchblade, his voice shaking as hard as his hands. "We gotta see him. We're gonna see him, and if you give me any static, you'll end up on your own operatin' table."

"You can see him, but it's because you're his friends, not because of the knife." the doctor said softly.

Dally's intense, wild eyes met the calm brown ones of the doctor. His entire body shaking, he flicked the knife close and pocketed it. He slowly walked into Johnny's room, gulping air to try to slow his rapidly beating heart.

Johnny was very still, and for one unthinkable second, Dally thought he was already dead.

Then, he saw the boy's chest move, and relief swept through him. Of course Johnny wasn't dead! Johnny wasn't going to die, because that was impossible!

Dally asked in a hoarse voice, "Johnnycake?" He wiped the sweat off his upper lip. "Johnny?"

Johnny stirred, then opened his eyes. "Hey." he said softly, in a voice that failed to mask the pain.

Dally sagged in relief and guilt. "We won." he panted, his words coming very fast and jumbled together in his inexplicable urge to tell Johnny before...what? "We beat the Socs. We stomped them-chased them outta their territory."

"Useless...fighting's no good." said Johnny. He was scary white.

Dally licked his lips nervously. "They're still writing editorials about you in the paper. For being a hero and all." Dally felt a strange calm settle in him. "Yeah, they're calling you a hero now and heroizin' all the greasers. I'm proud of you, buddy."

Dally's voice broke. He wished he had told Johnny that before. He had always been proud.

For the first time in his life, Dally prayed. He prayed Johnny would live.

"Ponyboy." Johnny said. Ponyboy went closer to Johnny.

"Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold."

And Johnny died.

Dally stood very still for a moment, his breath still heavy. White noise crashed in his ears. He swallowed and pushed back Johnny's sweaty hair, and said in a broken, hoarse voice. "Never could keep that hair back...that's what you get for tryin' to help people, you little punk, that's what you get."

As Dally had spoken, his voice had gotten progressively higher and louder. His words came out as a scream, and something inside him broke.

He whirled around, slamming his fist into the wall. Pain twisted his face, and sweat poured down his face. Little rivulets of blood trickled down his already bruised fist.

"Dammit, Johnny!" he begged, punching the wall, as if that could bring Johnny back. "Oh, dammit, Johnny, _don't die, please don't die..."_

Dally bolted from the room, his last glance of Ponyboy being a smallish kid, pale and shaking, with a hollow, grieved expression on his face.

The doctor shook his head as Dally flew from the room, and down the hall. The people in the waiting room swore at him, but Dally was blind to it all.

He ran into the cool evening air, sprinting towards the car. He threw open the door and took off, speeding through the darkening night.

He drove recklessly for what seemed like hours- or minutes, he didn't know which, and didn't really care. He took shuddering breaths and held back tears. Images of Johnny flashed through his mind, and they tore him apart. Nothing in his life had prepared him for this.

He finally pulled to a stop in front of a store, and burst out of the car, sinking down beside the front wheel. He rested his head against the wheels, grabbing at his hair. A tear traced down his grimy cheek, and then another.

An uncontrollable urge to destroy seized him, as if that would erase the fact that Johnny was, irreparably, dead.

_Well, _thought Dally, _if Johnny's dead, than so am I. _

He couldn't bear to go back to that place of frozen hollowness, of empty actions. He couldn't go back.

Dally was far past his breaking point. He rushed to his feet, unloaded a gun, and tucked in his belt. He grabbed the switchblade in his hand and with a set jaw and deadened eyes, stalked into the store.

Dally leapt into his car after the phone call, and drove towards the vacant lot. Sirens screamed behind him and he grinned.

_What the folks in New York would think of me now! _thought Dally detachedly.

He stomped on the brakes and vaulted from the car.

The police had arrived, and Dally squinted under the bright streetlights. He watched as his gang arrived, and felt sorry he couldn't tell them goodbye.

His heart raced, and he felt a grim smile slide onto his face. The orange and gold light played on his face as he pocketed the switchblade. The last part of his plan had come.

He pulled the unloaded gun from his waistband. Dally had no ammunition, and the gun was basically useless, but the police wouldn't know. All Dally had to do was point the damn thing at them, and they would panic, and shoot him. And Dally would join Johnny.

It was time to die. No more pain, no more empitness. He was going to Johnny.

He was going to die a hoodlum, as he had lived. Dally pictured Johnny as raised the empty gun.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see lil' Ponyboy staring at him in horror. He hoped the kid would have a long happy life, the kind of life neither he nor Johnny had ever gotten.

The guns cracked, and Dally jerked halfway around before crumpling to the ground, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

The pain never hit him, and one clear thought ran through his muddy mind as the darkness swamped him.

_I'm comin' Johnny. _Dally thought, a hint of smile growing on his face. The world had been filled with darkness and fire and light, and as he felt himself float away, he felt satisfied.

_I'm comin'. _

**A/N: Thank you sooooo much for reading this! Hugs all around! Dally has always been one of my favorite characters, and I couldn't resist writing this. Just as a disclaimer, parts of the dialogue are taken directly from the book. Those parts I do not own. Thank you!**

** Please review! **

**~lupuscarmen13**


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